


The Wrong Kind of Drug

by sherlockpond



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Best Friends, Buttload of angst, Depression, Drug Use, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hospitals, I apologise for autocorrect, I really need to stop writing, Kissing, Love, M/M, Overdose, Resuscitation, Sickfic, So much angst, Spoilers!!, come on guys, post winter soldier, this is taking over my life, winter soldier spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds Bucky overdosed on his couch, he's been finding it difficult adjusting to the 21st century since his memories came back.<br/>Losing Bucky the first time was difficult; he can't go through it all over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Kind of Drug

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back. I genuinely can't believe it. I spent most of today writing this and I hope you all enjoy it! I got so much positive feedback from the last fic that I felt so damn good and I wanted to do another.
> 
> I've been feeling like Bucky would have issues adjusting to life since his memories and body have been tampered with. I didn't mention the bionic arm throughout the fic, so assume it's there but Tony's made it look like flesh because I want you guys to read it, and I think it's fine the way it is.
> 
> Anyway, the usual disclaimed stuff- I own nothing of Marvel, and I'm not American, and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> One lovely reader (I'm being genuine here) pointed out I'm just too damn British and had accidentally got some of the American lexis wrong, but I digress :) both were was written on my iPhone during Film and Media Studies so I can only apologise for grammer and spelling...
> 
> I hope it keeps you entertained (and to confirm it ISN'T a continuation from my last one, so you know)
> 
> *UPDATE:* OK HOLY FUCK I REALISED, AFTER A FRIEND READ IT, THAT THIS HAS MORE ISSUES AND SHIT WRONG WITH IT THAN I CAN EVEN BEGIN TO LIST. I'VE BEEN THROUGH IT AND MY EARLY NIGHT IS NOW LATE BECAUSE IT'S TAKEN SO LONG TO FIX ALL THE SHIT MY COMPUTER DECIDED TO DO. APOLOGIES FOR THE STUPID FUCKING COMPUTER, IT'S NOT GOING TO LAST MUCH LONGER IF IT KEEPS DOING THIS.

Steve comes home to find Bucky spread across the floor, vomit pooled next to him and his breath coming in quiet wheezes. There's a needle on the coffee table and a dusty line from left-over blow; the heart-breaking fact was that it wasn't an unusual sight.

"Bucky!" Steve calls, running over to the helpless shell and shaking him, the other man barely stirring from the drug induced coma.

He's been having issues, the constant hate of the twenty first century. He's been going out, now that Bucky had come out as bisexual, he was going out to parties and bringing both men and women home to their shared flat; sometimes a group, who all leave the next morning, clothes bundled in a pile, clutched to their chests as Steve throws them out and goes to Bucky's side.

* * *

 

Another trip to the hospital shows sympathetic faces and drips coming in and out of Bucky's track ridden skin.

"Jesus, Buck," Steve starts, leaning on the bed and clasping his hands together "I'm not sure how much more you can take. The sex, the drugs, you're killing yourself, you jerk." Quietly adding "I don't know how much I can take,"

It takes three hours until Bucky's eyelids flutter open.

"Steve?" He manages to breathe out, his voice rough and worn. It's clear that the vomiting has burnt away his throat.

Steve looks up from toying with the edge of the bedsheets and immediately locks eyes with his best friend.

"Hey there bud, how are you feeling?"

Bucky takes a second to look around "How did I get here?" He asks quietly before his eyes widen and he realises the cocktail of heavy substances he consumed.

"Holy fuck, Steve, I didn't mean- -- I wasn't trying--- I just needed a break, I hate it here, in this time, it’s all dark and it’s like I’m trapped,"

Steve lays a hand on his and Bucky stops talking as he closes his eyes and begins to shake and cry.

"Jesus, Stevie, what have I done?" He manages to crack out of his used voice box, pushing his head into the opposite side of the pillow, escaping Steve's gaze.

Steve leaves the hospital when the nurse eventually forces him out, saying he can come back in the morning but he needs to get some rest.

* * *

 

The next morning Bucky is hooked up to more IV's and has a breathing tube to assist him. Steve turns to the attending nurse.

"What happened to him? Why wasn't I alerted?" He asks half angry, half nervous, he doesn't really want to know the answer.

"He woke at about 2am and tore all of his IV's out. He then managed to get the keys from one of the doctors and sneak into the medication storeroom." The nurse pauses and Steve knows what's coming next "Mr Barnes then took three bottles of painkillers and collapsed on his way back to bed."

Steve loses the feeling I his legs and falls to the floor, his knees cracking as he holds onto the bed for stability.

The nurse continues, unsure what to do "We think he knew that he had to ingest a high quantity to take effect, after the experiments that were run on him in the 40's, we can only assume it sped his metabolism up,"

"How did he manage to survive?"

"Surgeons pumped his stomach, just in time, he then went into anaphylactic shock, he's still on the threat list of relapsing, his pulse is weak," she puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and rubs "I'm sorry, he really seemed like a genuinely lovely guy,"

Steve gives the nurse an odd look "What do you mean 'seemed'? He's not going to die on me, not today, I won't let him,"

Suddenly the heart monitors and machinery leap into action. Beeping and whining filled the room, Bucky's body is seizing and contorting and Steve freezes, he had no idea what to do. The nurse immediately runs into the corridor and screams for help before coming back into the room and laying down Bucky flat.

Doctors rush in and forced Steve out, he watchs from the window outside the room, breathing heavily.

  
"Not today," he mutters over and over, placing a hand on the glass.

The doctors move around Bucky's body, he looked so small, he melts into the sheets and his body looked so lifeless.

 

The heart monitor flat-lines.

He's never seen Bucky look quite so small before.

The doctors turn to the defibrillator to begin resuscitation.

Steve can feel tears burning behind his eyes.

"Come on you bastard, not now," he growls.

His breath fogs up the glass.

"3...2...1...clear!"

"Bastard, this time I'll help you more!"

Tears are beginning make his vision swim.

"3...2...1...clear!"

The seconds feel like hours. He can't die. He has to live. What if he never tells him---.

A spark, a heartbeat. And then another. Stronger.

Steve looks up and sees the heart monitor, there's a spike, it wasn't his imagination.

The doctors are still hurrying around Bucky, sorting out drips and injections. Steve sees Bucky choke on the ventilator and the nurse makes sure he doesn't vomit, his throat must hurt so much considering the damage it's been put through in the last 24 hours.

The doctors calm him and make sure that everything is set. Bucky looks knackered and he falls into a light sleep as the group of medics leave, Steve catches the eye of the last nurse and asks if he can go in.

"Sit with him, don't wake him though. He's had a rough night, he'll need all the rest he can get. When he wakes we'll start the detoxing and therapy. Just try to reassure him if he's distressed,"

Steve nods, numbly, Bucky's only ever had light trips to A&E in comparison to this. The nurse gives him a curt nod and leaves, Steve pushes the door open and all but runs to Bucky's side.

"You fucking idiot, Buck. I can't believe you'd do this to me. I thought you'd grow to like it here, I know it hasn't got the same feel as the 40's but it gets better. And I know you've been enjoying yourself, with some girls and guys. But I know you've got something missing, ever since you came back; there's been a part of you that's just...absent,"

Steve feels Bucky's fingers twitch in his hand but he sees no change in his face.

"I'm with you to the end of the line, Bucky. We're going to get through this, together, I swear."

* * *

 

Steve manages to fall asleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Bucky's bed. He wakes early the next morning, feeling eyes on him, glancing around the room he sees no doctor or nurse, but when his eyes fall on Bucky, who's watching him through weary eyes, he looks as haggered as he did the night before, sallow skin, eyes far too bright and cracked lips, he smiles hollowly.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, a singular tear falling down his pale skin "I thought it'd be alright if you didn't have to deal with me anymore."

"Bucky---," Steve tries to start

"And then it turns out I'm just as shit at taking my own life as I am learning to live in the future," Bucky finishes, scrubbing a hand over his own face.

"Bucky, look at me!" Steve orders and sad, depressed eyes meet his own "I'm going to help you get through this. We can do this, together, I know we can. You've just got to believe in yourself, Buck,"

"What have I got to live for, Steve? Our friendship? Is that all? What's the point? You've got other friends, I'm sure you'll forget about me in no time," Bucky says cynically, eyes fixed on the ceiling

"Bucky, you died. Your heart stopped. And when that happened I thought it was too late, too late to tell you how much you mean to me." Steve reprimands, his fingers winding into the hospital sheets painfully.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Buck, I've never had anyone as close as you. Your everything to me, not gonna lie, I was thinking if ways to try and join you if you hadn't of been revived---,"

"Come on, Steve, don't mess around--,"

"I'm not, Bucky, it's true. Now I know there's the possibility for us, I don't think I could handle a world without you," Steve finally says, his eyes welled up again, the fear of rejection thumping in his chest.

"Us?" Bucky whispers, he sounds astonished

"Yeah, why not? It's the 21st Century. Some things are better, some are worse, but at least we wouldn't have to hide or feel ashamed. Everyone's liberal now a days...we could be together. What do you say?" Steve looks into Bucky's eyes, longing for an answer.

Bucky toys with the hem of the bed sheets as if pondering the proposal.

"You and me? Against the world?" He asks cautiously  "just like old times?"

"Yeah, like old times. And I promise, this time it'll be better. I want you to be able to do anything and be anyone you like. Since you came back, you've just been missing a piece of yourself, I want to help you find it,"

Bucky gives Steve a weak smile and nods slowly.

"Let's try this shit, then," he says in a small voice.

Steve smiles widely and hesitantly pushes their lips together.

XXXXXX

The therapy takes most of their time, weeks pass and Bucky finally seems to be making progress. He and Steve share small kisses and hugs but things never deviate into anything deeper, it seems to be a step on from friendship on which they can both be equals.

About a month or so on from the incident the two of them are lying tangled up on the sofa. The film they're watching has lost its appeal a good half hour ago and the two are just enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Steve is behind Bucky and presses small, intimate kisses to the back of his neck and under his jaw.   
It's not been easy, Bucky has been close to relapsing on two occasions but managed to keep strong enough to keep battling on with the detoxing.

"This feels right, why did we never do this before?" Bucky ponders quietly, leaning his head back onto Steve's chest.

"Repression, I guess," Steve answers simply and Bucky nods shortly "the forties were great but they had their drawbacks,"

"Yeah," the darker haired man murmurs.

"How you feeling today?" Steve asks casually and then realised how painfully unsubtle he sounded.

"Well, shrink, today's been okay. Although I think I've gone waaay too long without a snog," Bucky says light heartedly

"Are you sure?" Steve says wearily, they've never had a kiss longer than two or three seconds so this is going to be a game changer.

"What's the matter Rogers? Don't think you'll live up to the title? Scared your kissing techniques gone down the drain?" Bucky poked

Steve opened his mouth and smiled ruefully in disbelief "I think I can live up to my reputation," he replies quickly

Bucky turns on the couch and pulls Steve in for a long kiss, after about three seconds Bucky opens his mouth and Steve follows suit, both craving a deeper kiss and hands end up in hair, on waists, gripping onto the sofa and under clothing.

"Still think I'm off my game?" Steve mocks as they pull away

"Well, doll, you ain't bad," Bucky counters, before smiling broadly and pushing their lips together again.

After a while their lips are puffy and a little sore so they give it a rest.

"I don't think I'm ready for the next step, not yet," Bucky says quietly

"That's okay, I'll wait for as long as you need. Or if you don't want to at all that's fine, I understand if you don't want to--," Steve adds quickly

"Steve, Steve! Calm down! Of course I want a piece of your fine ass, but I just gotta get my head in order. I know it seems weird because I've been with loads of guys in the last few months but I want this to mean something, you and me, together," Bucky says, trying to get Steve to see his point of view.

"James Barnes, you're a ridiculous man. Just when I thought you couldn't surprise me, you go and do it all over again," Steve has a huge smile on his face.

XXXXXX

It takes another month before something happens. For no reason at all Bucky goes missing for a day and when he finally turns up he's high and drunk.

"HONNEEYY I'M HOME!" He shouts as he finally manages to get his keys into the lock and push the door open.

Steve runs into the living room and sees Bucky, he's got a bottle of Jack in one hand and he's crying to the point his eyes are raw and his subtle but definite eye liner is streaming down his face.

"Bucky, what did you do?" Steve asks, putting an arm around his waist to get him into the bathroom to get him cleaned up.

"I realised when you went to the store earlier than you're willing to spend your time getting me clean and keeping me happy. So I thought I'd save you the trouble of a wasted life and ----," Bucky vomits into the toilet and Steve rubs the back of his neck, he knew it'd been too easy, the first months had been too smooth, he'd taken for granted Bucky was okay now.

Leaning on the toilet Bucky looks up at him, his eyes stinging with fresh tears and his mouth wet with sick and spit.

"What am I to you, Steve?" He asks quietly "you're a good guy, I've killed so many people, I see their faces in my sleep. What did I do to deserve you? I'm a nobody, I should have died during the war,"

"You're my best guy, Buck, you always have been," Steve says honestly "I'm with you till the end of the line."

Bucky smiles gently before another clench in his stomach makes him double over and he empties his stomach into the toilet. Steve looks on sympathetically as Bucky sweats and cries into the porcelain bowl. Leaning over to the shower he dampens a flannel with cold water and wipes Bucky's forehead. Bucky's face immediately slackens and relaxes, he looks gratefully up to Steve and Steve feels a warmth inside his chest. The bathroom wreaked of sick but somehow it felt like progress.

XXXXXX

**4 months later**

Bucky's done well, after a slow few weeks of going cold turkey, mood swings and nightmares, he manages to make it. He and Steve still have their agreement, Bucky asked him to wait until he'd gone for 3 months before they even contemplated sex. Steve, after pretending to be heartbroken by the news, agreed and the three month date came and went. After trouble in Europe, the pair were busy defending the Earth, so by the time they get back to New York, they've almost forgotten about their plans.

_Almost._

  
Bucky realises when he's sitting in a one-seater armchair, watching Steve who's stretched out across the couch, his sock clad feet resting on the arm rest next to Bucky.

"Y'know, we made that pact to wait until the three month mark?" He carefully says

Steve's attention is instantly grabbed, his eyes darkening slightly in the low lamp light.

"Yeah," he replies, his eyes narrowing slightly and his mouth turning into a smirk.

"I think is like to try now,"

Before Bucky can draw another full breath Steve is in his personal space, kissing Bucky within an inch of his life.

"Oh man, this is going to be so much fun," Bucky says when they pull apart.

"You have no idea," Steve says before he leans into Bucky and throws him over his should and carries him off to their bedroom.

"Put me down, you punk!" Bucky shrieks

"Never!"

"Jerk! Dick!" Bucky says loudly as Steve walks up the stairs and Bucky gets dizzy when he sees the stair upside down from behind "put me down you son of a bitch!"

Steve laughs harder and drops him on their bed, quickly leaning down to capture their lips together.

"I'll never forgive you for that," Bucky teases

"Yeah you will," Steve retorts, smiling broadly.

Yeah, he most definitely will.

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, my inner beast thrives on neutral and positive feedback as well as kudos which is like a showering of love every time I get a new email notification.
> 
> Follow or look me up on Tumblr if you like, I'm in a Sebastian Stan mood as of late so good luck!
> 
> sherlockpond.tumblr.com


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